


Free me from my shackles, show me the light

by lover_of_blue_roses



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, One Shot, Robb's alive and will stay alive for Sansa's happiness, Sansa being loved and respected, helping damsels, inappropriate oberyn, possibly more self indulgent making Sansa happy and have a family and be loved, typical GoT stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 16:52:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: Poor abused Sansa isn't married to Tyrion and as Joffrey's wedding looms her future is in doubt. She asks Prince Oberyn for a favor and he see another victim of the Lannisters and does what vipers do, he strikes, at the opportunity to help her.





	Free me from my shackles, show me the light

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Whisper of Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4373618) by [Silberias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silberias/pseuds/Silberias). 



> This is a draft strongly influenced by all the Sansa/Oberyn I've been reading lately. I pulled the Theone/Letter thing from 'A Whisper of Hope.'

Sansa had been a prisoner and captive of the crown for nearly three years now and now she was not just a woman flowered but grown as well. In the looking glass she could see she had a woman's figure with wider hips and a full chest. Over the years she had the prospect of three different husbands Joffery, Tyrion and Tywin. The King had said though, even if she was married to the others, he would still want to fuck her, to see her cry in pain; one way or another she would have a Lannister baby. 

While Robb had not made any significant progress downwards pass the Neck, it was said he was trying to get the alliance of Arryn rather than fight. Lord Baelish had gone to betroth Lysa Arryn for the Crown but there had been no news for a while. Still the King loved to humiliate her and repeated the beatings of her. He did them less frequently in the throne room and but rather in his solar so he could watch her suffer up close. One day she feared, even before she was married, that he would do so in his chambers. 

While she thankful not married yet she knew her time was running out. Everyday she thought of escape and even of suicide. Better to take her own life that to become kin with those that killed her father, fought her brother and treated her so terribly. But then there is a shuffling in the Small Council. With Lord Baelish gone as Master of the Coin, Renly and Stannis dead as Masters of the Laws and Ships, Ser Barristan Selmy as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard dismissed. The Hand of the King is Tywin, Grand Maester Pycelle, Master of Coin Tyrion, Master of Laws Mace Tyrell, Master of Ships Oberyn Martell, Master of Whisperers Varys and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Meryn Trant. 

At first there is controversy over the second son Martell being sent but the illness which they described to Sansa sounds like a terribly good reason. She is most interested though in the tale they tell of him being in a chair with wheels. She knows she can't contact her 'traitorous' family but still when she thinks of poor Bran, just a wild free spirit, not only bound to the ground but to the mercy of someone else's help; she must at least try. She has repeated the phrase that she is 'just a stupid little girl' so many times she is starting to believe it. But then she reassures herself that she is smart and was dutiful in her lessons, that her father, a grown man, had great difficulty with the game of thrones. She is a Stark of Winterfell, the blood of the first men run through her veins, Winter is Coming and the North Remembers.

She is technically forbidden to ever wear her house colors or their sigil but their words give her great comfort as does her family. They are on the other side of the world and gods know where Arya is, but the idea of them, the shared memories and experiences fill her with joy and hope. So donning her metaphorical armour, with her actually only sign of rebelling is wearing her hair down with a simple plait as is the fashion in the north, she goes to meet Oberyn Martell and hope he is nice than the previous prince she has meet. 

Prince Oberyn is in a secluded part of the gardens as she is informed by one of Varys little birds, they are general helpful with information of little importance, and when Sansa goes there he is indeed seating in the shade writing. Instinctively she freezes, she didn't mean to interrupt. He is dressed in a manner Sansa has never seen, it must be Dornish fashion. With pale red silk cloak and a shirt armored with overlapping discs of bright copper. She really is a foolish stupid girl, why else would he be in seclusion is not be in private and left alone. She must make a noise because he looks up at her. 

"I'm so sorry Your Grace. I did not mean to intrude," Sansa says looking at the flower and letting her hair fall in her line of sight like blinders. She hurries to back up but he calls her forward.

"It is no grave interruption, these gardens are for everyone's use. You are as free to use them as I am," the Prince says kindly with a thick Dornish drawl. She doesn't make eye contact, she hasn't with people of power in months, but stares straight at his chin in confused bafflement. She is a prisoner and plaything, whatever people tell her to do, she does. The Tyrells have certainly marked a part of the garden as theirs, she would not enter there without their leave. Is the Prince ignorant or japing? 

Still Sansa uses her curtises even as she stares in disbelief. "You are too kind Your Grace but I would not bother your correspond writing."

"I'm not writing letters, I'm writing poetry." 

"Oh!" She looks up to his nose in surprise, it hadn't occurred to her that people did that in real life not just in tales. 

"They aren't very good but I would be willing to let you read some."

"Really?" She blurts in excitement. 

"Really, come sit here," he stands from his chair and guides her by the elbow where he sat. They are numbered at the bottom and he pulls out some of them, perhaps the ones he prefers. When he has given her a thin stack he places both his hands the top rail of the chair. He waits a few moments before leaning down and speaking into her ear, "Shall I read them for you? Poetry is best when spoke by the author anyhow."

She blushes at his inappropriate behavior and the fact she was suppose to have been reading out loud. Silent reading is an uncommon trait in the south and especially so amongst ladies. He now must think her as stupid as everyone else in the castle. 

"Beauty that drips from your face  
Pools at your hips  
Love that ushers from your mouth  
And crawls into my ear  
To curl in my mind  
And sleep in my soul."

Sansa feels a shiver down her spine and a blush at the tip of her ears. He is lovely with lustrous black hair, a sharp nose and piercing black eyes. She has been a woman flowered for two years but now she feels truly womanly, he is spice and interest where Loras and Joffrey are bland and boring. As much as she would like new reading material of interest and someone to discuss it with, she fears what temptation may cause her to do.

"I'm actually here to discuss something," she said pulling back.

"Oh?" He said stand up, providing her space while still leaving his hands on the chair. 

"I don't know if you have heard but my brother Bran broke his back when he fell from a tower."

"I'm sorry to hear."

"He is fine now, but he can't walk. A man must now carry him around should he wish to go anywhere. I have heard your brother-"

"Ah yes. I see. Of course, I will get the plans of my brother's chair and give them to you swiftly."

"Actually Your Grace," Sansa thought carefully of how to word her require, "I would not have need of them, I could not do anything with them." She heavily emphasised the 'I.'

Prince Oberyn nodded in dawning understanding, "I will see that they will end up in hands of those that can help." He had a strange look on his face, not that Sansa could not recognize it but that he would bare it while looking at her. Concern. "Are you not free to contact your family? Does the King tell of his plans such that any letters could be a danger to the crown?"

Sansa steeled herself in her lady's armor of rehearsed words but let her expression shine through so that he might truly understand the meaning behind her words, "My father was a traitor. My family are traitors. I have traitors' blood. I would not give traitors comfort and have no need to speak with them. I am devoted to my beloved Joffrey."

The Prince's concern grew to familiar pity, Tyrion often looked at her in such a way when she spoke her words. "I see. I did not realise the capital treated you so. My lady I would offer you a chance to get out of here although I could not return you home. If you would like I could bring you with me to Dorne."

Sansa froze in terror, could it be true? But she had refused to run away with Sandor and with Ser Dontos. "I thank your Grace for your generous offer but I-" can't live my life on the run always afraid, "have a duty to my wardens."

"You misunderstand my lady. I would not steal you away in the night." He extended his hand to her to lifted her from the chair and make her stand, he then knelt on one knee before her. "I would ask for the privilege to be your husband."

Sansa opened her mouth like a gaping fool. "You-r Grace is too kind. But-t I could... I couldn't accept. I am under the Lannister protection and only they can..." Tears blur her vision, she wants to say yes so bad. Anything to get out of here. Wilas or Oberyn it does not matter as long as they take her far away from here.

"I will see this done then," Prince Oberyn says marching away with purpose.

Sansa is in a daze walking back to her room. Margaery had woven a tale of marrying her brother but the Lannisters wanted her too badly for that but perhaps, maybe, the Martells had a better position to bargain with. Sansa does not know what to think, who to trust or who not to. But she does know that all her remaining possibilities in King's Landing are terrible. She doesn't have long to wait. Within the hour she is sent for by a page of the Hand.

In the council room the Lannisters are there; Tyrion, and Tywin, along with Prince Oberyn. She sits meekly and wonders if she should act delighted or dismayed at the news she might hear. Blank surprise seems like the safest course. 

Lord Tywin speaks, "The bond between House Martell and House Lannister has been weak since the Rebellion." Sansa wants to scoff as though the Martells should ever forgive them for the actions they took, she has heard the rumors and believes in the Mountain's treachery since Sandor told her the story of his scars. "The Prince seeks a bride to give him trueborn children," Sansa flushes in humiliation at the idea of it; but she knows this foolishness is just because of her mother's attitude and not warranted. Men can do many things far worse than to bed another before they are even promised to someone.

Tywin seems pleased with her discomfort, it would seem he really is no better than his daughter or grandson. "We would offer you to him," adds after a pause.

"It would my pleasure to serve as my Lord commands me," she says trying to look overwhelmed staring at Lord Tywin's chin.

"Hmm." Tywin states as he rises, "Then it is settled."

Sansa hopes to leave the capital before the king's wedding but Prince Oberyn has been promised justice for his sister's murderer as agreed by acting Hand Tyrion but it is clear that Tywin has no means of upholding that promise. As lovely as Sansa is, he will not be placated. Tywin can speak lies that Ser Amory Lorch killed all three when only he killed Rhaenys but the Prince too can be wily. If he marries Sansa first and argues justice of his sister afterward, they can not technically publicly take Sansa away from him.

The wedding is still in three turns of the moon and Sansa is absolutely restless. Prince Oberyn can only guess at how hard it must be to live somewhere hated by all, but in truth he has no idea. He is much like Arya, he could not take such treatment meekly and laying down, he would fight and resist and probably die. Even now Sansa does not know of the fate of her sister, she too might be dead unrecognized somewhere in a ditch. 

One day Prince Oberyn arrives at her chambers, Sansa can only hope he has news of their travel plan. He walks out with her on her balcony, today it is a windy day that makes it hard to talk and harder to listen in on. "I have received a message from the port of Duskendale from a young man claiming to Theon Greyjoy bearing a Tully button on his cloak. He stole a longship from the Ironborn and filled it with Northern soldiers. He plans to steal you away from the Red Keep. He also has a letter from the King of the North," Sansa sucks in a breath greedily in excitement. "Knowing the content of letter and that he bore one for the Martells too, he has contacted me, surprised we are so far north. Read this, confirm it is your brother's writing."

He gives her a scroll with an unbroken seal. A grey wolf. She slices the ribbon to keep the wax image intact and reads his words hungrily. He writes with great sadness that although he is winning every battle by the time he reaches King's Landing his sisters might come to great and greater harm. He does not realise that Arya is long gone or that harm has already befallen Sansa. His other fear is that while he has powerful forces to conquer the Riverlands and the Eyrie, that the Crownlands will be too exhausting after all his armies accompaniments. He writes that he has begged the Martells, that had goodwill with their father, to take in Sansa and Arya, protect them to the best of their abilities. In exchange he promised an alliance of marriage. It must not be hers if the Martells prefer to marry one of her brothers.

To have plans come together from both sides of the world so neatly feels like a divine hand is guiding the players. Sansa could weep with the joy. She has no more reserve about marrying Prince Oberyn. Her heart soars and she believes that the Prince could be worse than Joffrey, as bad as the Mountain, so long as he get her out of King's Landing and help her brother. After thinking herself low and stupid and contemplating suicide, it is not truly a leap for her poor battered mind to have little care for herself. 

She looks up at him with a big smile and more tears shining in her blue eyes. "Your Grace," she says a thank you, "Oh, would you be wanting to read it?"

He looks at her in impressed surprise at her silent reading skills before taking the letter from her hands. "It is much the same as mine, although it does not change much. I will protect you with all in my power and in exchange you will marry me." Sansa smiles up at him. "If I am to have you as a wife, I would wish to please you Your Grace. Do you wish to leave before the king's wedding?"

"I am not Grace," she answers automatically from the games Joffrey played with her.

"You are Princess of the North, Your Grace and soon you will not be in a land forbidden to call you this." She blushes at his kind words of praise as he peers down at her. 

"What-What of Gregor Clegane?" She is pleased he wants to be a dutiful husband but she knows personally that happy men are kinder and henceforth more important than her own pleasure. 

"I will slip him some manticore venom thickened with sorcery to draw out the Mountain's dying instead of killing him instantly. Besides no one has ever bested him in one-on-one combat, I love my sister as she loved me but she would not want me to die for her if not necessary. Even if I did defeat him at the cost of my life, it would not bring her back. And Ellaria would be most sad to see me die," her face must twitch because he turns to look at her more fully. "Does my paramore bother you?"

"No Your Grace. Of course not Your Grace. I am but a foolish stupid girl. My mother hated my father's bastard and I had to treat him with equal disdain to keep her approval. But I can-I will- Your Grace," Sansa rushes to hurry to apologizes so that her betrothed might not treat her like her last one did. 

"It is fine. It is okay," He places his hands on her shoulder and crouches down to best look her in the eyes. She is hyperventilating with nerves. "It is hard to unlearn the ways we learn as a child. You need not meet all of them at once or for long periods of time. My eldest on, Obara, is almost thirty, you need not think of them as my children if this is too hard. Although by law they will be your daughters, if you ask them they will let you call them sister or aunt or whatever may help."

Sansa hates herself for Prince Oberyn is so kind and gentle. She must seem such a fool. She has lied and denounced her family and taken beatings but she is still unable to play her part well enough, to have a mask so complete that none would see her fears. She is just stripped bare by Robb's letter, that he is still thinking of her and Arya, still working on treaties and alliances to save them, he hasn't forgotten them. She carefully recites the words in head, 'She is a Stark of Winterfell, the blood of the first men run through her veins, Winter is Coming and the North Remembers.' Slowly and thinking how each letter can be written in calligraphy until she is a calm blank little girl again. 

"I thank Your Grace for your understanding, I will do my best to become a dutiful and pleasing wife to you."

"You will find that things in Dorne are not like the capital. What would please me is to just be true to yourself." Sansa says nothing to this responds because she would never disagree with her betrothed when she barely knows him but after being watched by everyone from Cersei to Baelish is no more capable of believing him than of bring back the dead.

**Author's Note:**

> So much rum, omg Sansa deserves to me happy and I deserve spell checker. And as I am god of the fiction I write, she is gonna get it. Mm girl dude is hot


End file.
